


The Bad Ending

by SweetAndSourBerry



Series: Leverage DSMP AU [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Mindfuck, Rough Sex, Serious Injuries, Stockholm Syndrome, This one is rough you guys, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetAndSourBerry/pseuds/SweetAndSourBerry
Summary: What if Philza and Technoblade didn’t escape the clearing at the end of Leverage? Welcome to the Bad Ending.
Series: Leverage DSMP AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159235
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	The Bad Ending

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate ending to “Leverage”, the first fic in this series. You’ll definitely want to read that one first.
> 
> This fic is by far the worst in the series. It gets rough. Graphic descriptions of injuries and violence, graphic depictions of rape/non-con sex. Just be aware of this before you read. I don’t want anyone to read something they’re not comfortable with. <3

_< Ph1LzA> Technoblade has escaped!_

* * *

Dream was galloping to Pandora’s Vault to see how his prized captive had escaped his inescapable prison when something caught his eye.

A man-sized shape flew away from the area of the Vault, holding something that could have been a body. There was only one person on the server with wings.

Dream turned his horse to follow.

Phil flew on. He seemed unaware that he was being followed. With a predatory smile hidden by the mask, Dream pulled the bow off his back. He would only get one shot at this.

The arrow struck Phil in the wing.

Phil plummeted to the ground, but dropped Techno. Dream hesitated only for a moment before riding towards where he saw the piglin land.

He found Techno sprawled out on the ground. Using the toe of his boot, he flipped the body onto its back. The piglin grunted. Alive, then, but unconscious; and even then, he was coming around. Dream knelt by the body, lifting the head into his lap. The hair was atrocious; Dream would have to talk to Sam about some sort of weekly bathing schedule. He scratched the scalp affectionately, then ran his fingers through the filthy hair.

Techno groaned. Dream smiled, caressing his check with his thumb. The piglin responded by grunting and then _cuddling_ _into the hand,_ of all things.

It was intoxicating, having someone so powerful nuzzling against him for comfort.

“My, aren’t we affectionate?” Dream said with a chuckle. And watched the piglin’s eyes fly open. He saw Dream, and for just a moment, there was true fear in his eyes. It was quickly replaced by anger, and the piglin struggled to sit up.

Technoblade had the most fascinating eyes. They were black, with white pupils. But when he became angry, they seemed to glow red.

He was still wearing nothing but his pants. The collar was around his neck, with a foot or so of chain still attached to it. Quick as a snake, Dream grabbed that chain and _yanked._

Techno came crashing back into his lap with a satisfying “oof” noise.

“Since I captured you, you have been a thorn in my side,” Dream admitted. He yanked down a little harder, and watched the piglin start to squirm in discomfort. “But, damn, you’ve been the best fuck I’ve ever had. I guess it’s true what they say about animal hybrids.”

Techno was starting to go a little pale. Fingers came up to pull frantically at the collar.

“When you die, I’d imagine you’ll respawn in your cell,” Dream continued. “You will have accomplished nothing but losing a life. We’re far beyond the effects of the respawn anchor here.” The piglin was starting to turn just a little blue. “But, fuck, when I think about the things I’m going to do to you in punishment ...” He laughed, letting his eyes roam over the piglin’s helpless body. “Oh, Technoblade, we’re going to have so much _fun_ together!”

Techno managed to get his hooves under him. Surprised, Dream felt his hold give. It was just a little, but it was enough for the piglin to breathe. He gasped in breath after breath.

He was favoring his left leg. Dream kicked the leg, and felt it give with an audible _snap._ Techno fell with a whimper.

“Maybe I won’t kill you,” Dream said to the piglin now panting in pain. “Maybe I’ll give you one of these instead.” He pulled out a sleeping pot. “Adrenaline or none, you’re far too weak to fight its effects. Would you prefer to just go to sleep?” He yanked the chain down again, listening to the piglin choke. “Or would you prefer death?”

The piglin looked up at him with murder in his red eyes, but his body was bleeding and broken. His mouth was open, desperately gasping for breath. The fight was over, and both men knew it.

Dream made his decision and emptied the contents of the bottle into Techno’s mouth.

* * *

Dream had made mistakes. He owned that. But he wasn’t a stupid man and was willing to learn from those mistakes.

It took four days for Sam to alter the maximum security cell to fit Dream’s redesign. Dream helped where he could, but mostly just stayed out of the creeper hybrid’s way.

Instead, Dream tracked down Tommy. His recent griefing spree was the perfect excuse to bring the teen to heel. Dream went with a classic and threatened L’Manburg with obsidian walls. Tubbo was forced to concede, especially when Dream privately reminded him that the president had been right by Tommy’s side the entire time.

Tommy was now occupying one of the minimum security cells. The child’s voice could be heard echoing off the obsidian halls of the Vault in fury every now and then. But Tommy was easily controlled, and still half-broken from his time in exile. Dream knew that it wouldn’t take long to finish the job.

Tommy had no idea that Techno’s unconscious body was being stored in the cell next to him. Not until the day the renovations were complete and Punz came to retrieve the piglin.

* * *

Technoblade wished very, very much that the groggy, disorientating feeling of waking from a sleeping pot wasn’t one he was so familiar with. But he had been woken, had a bowl of broth poured down his throat, then drugged back into oblivion again and again and again.

This time was different. This time he woke alone.

He was laid out on a familiar blackstone bench. The first thing his eyes saw when they had cleared was a very, very familiar lectern and cauldron. He could have wailed in frustration and despair. He was back in his cell.

Things had changed, however. It was smaller, for one. Probably three blocks less long and five blocks less wide. But the biggest difference was the fourth wall. Where there had once been lava was now obsidian and an iron door.

The sound of dispensers firing filled his cell. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat up, Dream’s promises of punishment echoing through his brain. The iron door opened ... and Sam walked through. Techno kept his face clear of the relief he felt as Sam noticed he was awake.

“I wondered how long it would take you to wake up,” Sam said, and Techno flicked an ear at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Imprisoned,” Techno responded simply.

”Yes, well,” Sam replied. “The riot your friend started on your behalf makes me inclined to think that this is right where you need to be. Here.” A bowl of liquid was handed to him. It had a few bits of carrot and potato floating in it, but was otherwise just thickened broth. Chicken, by the smell of it. Chicken, and ... oh. The vaguely fruity scent of a health pot.

Techno gave it a swirl and another few sniffs, just to make sure it was completely clear of a sleeping potion, before drinking the bowl dry.

Sam left after that. Techno watched carefully out of the corner of his eye as Sam threw a book at the floor. Techno had just enough time to see that the book glowed with a signature before it disappeared into the floor. A keycard system, then.

It occurred to Techno that a lot of his problems could be solved if he had access to a guard’s inventory.

He began to plan.

* * *

There was no way Dream would be able to resist visiting him now that he was awake. That knowledge was validated a few days after Sam left.

“You're looking well,” Dream cooed in that sticky-sweet voice he used that he thought was flirty. “Amazing what a respawn anchor and a sword through the throat will accomplish.” He raised a hand to cup Techno’s cheek then slapped him, hard.

Techno grunted in surprised pain but didn’t protest the rough treatment. His plan wouldn’t work with Sam; he just didn’t know enough about creeper anatomy. It had to be Dream. He had to get Dream off his guard.

Dream pushed him into a reclining position and smirked down at him, running his eyes over his healed body in a way Techno knew all too well. He grabbed the hem of Techno’s pants and pulled them off his body. Then took a minute to admire what he had uncovered. “Spread ‘em,” he commanded.

Techno hated this. Hated it so, so much. But he had to be patient and wait for his opportunity. Wordlessly, he obeyed.

Dream kneeled between his knees, wrapped his hand around Techno’s dick, and began to pump. Techno felt himself stiffening. “Always so responsive,” Dream cooed. “Always so _eager_ for me.”

And, no, Techno realized suddenly. He wasn’t doing this. Not unless he had to. So he sat up.

In an instant, Dream’s smarmy, flirty attitude disappeared. “What are you doing?” he demanded. He bent over Techno’s prone body, put his hand on his chest, and tried to push Techno back down onto his back. Meekly, Techno obeyed, and Dream smirked in triumph.

His bare neck was right by Techno’s face.

Technoblade stabbed his tusk into Dream’s carotid artery. And ripped.

It was like cutting the strings of a puppet. Dream collapsed onto his body, blood squirting everywhere. Techno closed his knees, keeping Dream trapped between his thighs.

It took seconds. Dream’s struggles became weaker and weaker, and then he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

His inventory scattered across Techno’s belly and onto the floor. Techno jumped up, pulled his pants onto his bloody body, and then quickly dressed himself in Dream’s armor. It ... wasn’t a good fit, but it would work. He quickly picked up the other items, paying special attention to the keycard.

He had minutes until Dream respawned and sounded the alarm. He had to move fast.

The keycard easily opened the door to his cell, then popped out on the other side. He collected it, and found himself on a walkway of some sort. Lava fell in front of him; a blackstone awning kept it from falling onto the walkway.

One of the items in Dream’s inventory had been a fire resistant pot. Techno drank it, then swam through the lava to the room on the other side.

Just in case, he reset his spawn. Then ran down the stairs. The keycard opened the access tunnel; he ran through it to the room with the water duct. He reset his spawn and turned to the duct in the wall.

Last time, this was as far as he had gotten. He had no idea what lay beyond the chute. But last time, he didn’t have armor. The respiration on Dream’s helmet and the depth strider on the boots made the water chute a breeze.

He swam through easily, and found himself in a small room with levers on the wall. So he threw the book down until it disappeared, then flipped levers until the wall to his right sank into the floor.

Another bed, another wall of levers. Another spawn reset. Another period of tossing the keycard at the floor and then flipping levers.

The next room was massive, easily twenty blocks high. He was so focused on the ceiling that he almost stepped off into a massive hole where the floor should have been. Playing around with the keycard and more levers brought the floor up via flying machine.

The left wall was covered in cells. Covered. Three levels, five per level, with iron doors and bars reinforced with obsidian. Each looked tinier than even his renovated cell.

A voice he recognized yelled from one of those cells: “Who’s there?”

Anger rose like bile in his throat. There was absolutely no call for putting TommyInnit in one of those little obsidian shoeboxes.

He was at Tommy’s cell door before he even realized he was running. “Tommy, what’ve you gotten yourself into now?”

 _“Technoblade?”_ the teen yelled in shock. “What the fuck are you doing here? Holy hell, man, am I glad to see you! You look like shit, though, what the _fuck?”_

On second thought, Dream may have been on to something here. Techno pushed the amusing thought away and looked for some way to open the door.

Just then, an all too familiar siren filled the prison.

“Shit,” Techno muttered.

“Hey, you cursed!” Tommy exclaimed. “I thought that the great _Technoblade_ didn’t-”

Just then the sound of pistons firing could be heard, and a giant iron vault door at the other end of the room irised open. Sam and Punz ran through, screeching to a halt when they saw Techno.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Punz swear under his breath.

And this was gonna be _fun._ These men who had tormented him for a month were finally gonna be repaid for their actions. A smile curled at the edges of his mouth, baring his teeth, and he threw back a strength pot. He saw Sam go pale.

He leapt over the railing and was on them like a leopard. They didn’t have a prayer of a chance. Sam went down to a sword through his throat before he could do much more than back up a step. Punz followed soon after.

“Holy _fuck_ man, that was epic!” Tommy crowed from his cell.

And as much as Techno appreciated the sentiment, they were in a hurry. He ignored the blond teen and looked around, desperate for some way to open the cell. There were no buttons or levers. He threw the keycard to either side of the door but it just hovered there. So that wasn’t it.

“Look out!” Tommy yelled. Techno looked up to see that Sam and Punz had respawned, and had been joined by Bad and Ant. They were flanking him, two on each side of him.

Once again, he jumped over the railing, this time to give himself some space to maneuver. 4-v-1 wasn’t the best of odds, but he was still confident in his abilities. He just couldn’t let them surround him.

Sure enough, that’s what they tried. Ant and Bad circled around him, one on each side. Quick as a snake he struck, and Ant disappeared in a puff of smoke. Bad took the opportunity to strike, and Techno felt the bite of a blade on the skin of his arm. He grunted, danced out of the way of Punz’ axe, and plunged his own blade into Sam’s side. Punz parried his strike and ducked out of the way, to make space for Ant, who had returned. He paused a moment, tried to catch his breath, and Sam ran through the door.

He wasn’t going to win like this. Their respawn point was too close, and they kept returning with full armor and weapons.

He turned and ran through the iron door. The four men behind him gave chase, yelling in anger. He found himself in a large room with a spiral staircase leading up.

A staircase that Dream was descending.

He ducked beneath Dream’s axe and raised his sword, but Dream was a different class of fighter altogether. Techno was immediately on the defensive, those weeks of starvation and not training taking their toll. He grunted, caught Dream’s axe on his sword, ducked another swipe of the axe, defending himself again and again, and felt a sharp pain on the nape of his neck.

He woke on the bed by the room with the cells and knew immediately that it was over. The group of five came running in through the door and he was tired, so tired.

Wordlessly, he sank to his knees and put his hands on the back of his head.

Dream got to him first. He slammed his face onto the obsidian floor, then roughly handcuffed his wrists behind his back. Techno didn’t protest the rough treatment, knowing that it would only make the inevitable punishment far worse.

All five guards escorted him silently back to his cell, Dream dragging him by that damned collar and the rest following to the sides and behind. He got to see the prison in reverse, taken through access tunnels, splashed with water breathing, forced to reset his spawn again and again. Then, finally, it was just Dream and him on the bridge headed to his cell.

There were two cells, now. That’s why his cell suddenly had a wall and a door. He eyed the door on the right as Dream jerked him to the left, curious despite himself. And trying to take his mind off of what was to come.

The door had barely shut behind him when Dream put his knuckles through his nose. Techno grunted in pain but made no move to protect himself as Dream punched him in the gut. Then kicked him in the crotch, and Techno went to his knees. Then an elbow to his kidneys, and Techno was on the floor. He curled up as Dream went mad, kicking him in the gut again and again, then in the back. His arms, still twisted back behind his back, couldn’t take the angle and his right shoulder pulled out of its socket. He tried to cry out in pain but it only came out as a wet whimper. He spat out a tooth.

Then Dream was ripping off his pants and he knew this was coming, knew it was going to happen, and he tried to get up, tried to get away, but his body was too broken. He waited listlessly for the intrusion of fingers into his body.

It didn’t come. Instead, Dream slammed into him unprepped.

He yelled, the sound ripped out of his throat unbidden. His body tried to rid itself of the invasion, muscles clenching and contracting, but he was too weak. Then Dream began to move, pulling himself out and slamming back in, and Techno felt like he was floating. Untethered. Like his body wasn’t even his. Like he could just close his eyes and-

A familiar warmth filled his body and it was over. He lay where he was, listened to Dream move around and get dressed. Tried to find it within himself to feel relieved that it was over, but just felt numb. Waited for Dream to leave.

Instead, Dream used the toe of his boot to awkwardly flip Techno over onto his back. Techno realized that he was holding a knife.

Something like joy filled his heart. Dream was going to kill him. End his suffering. Let him respawn whole and uninjured. He watched the blade with something like eagerness, waiting for it to enter his body and take away his pain.

Dream knelt beside him, hovering over his prone body. Normally he’d be looking over Techno’s body, reveling in the man’s helplessness and humiliation. Instead, he grabbed Techno’s chin, forced him to make eye contact. “Don’t ever do that again,” he growled out, the first thing he had said since Techno had killed him.

Then he plunged the blade into Techno's gut.

If Techno thought he had been in pain before, he was mistaken. He screamed, fire racing up his broken body. His hands and arms convulsed where they were still cuffed behind his back, desperate to clutch the wound and stop the bleeding.

He had been gut-stabbed before, of course. He had been stabbed in any number of ways. But such an injury would be tended to immediately. The injured combatant would be removed from the tournament. If there was no respawn anchor they would be stitched up and plied with health and regen pots by a medic; if there was a respawn anchor, as there usually was, the victim would simply be killed, usually by another combatant. He himself had ended the suffering of many teammates.

Dream just watched him writhe with an almost clinical detachment. Then left without a word.

* * *

He laid in agony for a day and a half.

That wasn’t true. The agony lasted for only a few hours before his body simply couldn’t handle it anymore. He began to disassociate, felt himself going numb. He realized that he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

He was dying.

No need to wait. The lava was behind an iron door, and there was no way he could stand up to reach the cauldron. But the pool of water where he respawned, that might work. Hands still cuffed behind him, he tried to scoot over to the pool.

When he came to, the state of his shoulder and abdomen let him know quite emphatically that there would be no more scooting. He lay panting in pain until it faded enough that he could think again.

Then he remembered his comm. It wouldn’t work for anyone except for Sam and Dream. But it would work for those two.

 _Sam,_ he messaged the warden. _I need help._

No answer. Then: _I have strict instructions to not interfere with your punishment._

He hissed in anger. A thousand arguments ran through his head, none of them persuasive enough. Sam would be no help here.

There were only two choices left. The question was, which one was the lesser of two evils? His body answered for him.

 _Please,_ he messaged Dream.

And let himself drift away once again.

* * *

The water in the pool woke him. He could have wept at the relief of a whole body, but he was numb. So numb. The memory of pain held him irrevocably in its grip.

Gentle arms wrapped around him. It was only in contrast with their steadiness that he realized he was shaking. The temperature in his cell was balmy and hot, but he felt frozen to his core.

The arms encouraged him to stand, to climb out of the pool. They softly guided him to his bench, spread his cloak out, and helped him sit on the soft fabric. They stroked his body, calming him like they were settling a spooked horse, waited for the trembling to stop.

And then they were gone.

Techno heard himself gasp with the loss. No. No, he _needed_ that contact. Needed that _comfort._ Something within him cringed at how pathetically _needy_ he had become, but the shame was covered by the strength of his body’s demand for basic human touch.

Before he realized what he was doing, his hand shot out and grabbed a wrist. “Please,” he heard himself mutter.

Dream’s mask hovered into view. “What will you give me if I stay?” he murmured softly.

And Techno remembered that he was still nude, wearing nothing but the collar, and realized something he could trade for comfort. He hesitated only a moment before he lay back and spread his legs.

Dream seemed to consider the offer for a minute before walking over. He stood between Techno’s knees, looking down at him, and seemed to be in thought. Then, to Techno’s complete shock, he reached up and unbuckled his mask.

Dream looked ... normal. He was attractive, but not unusually so. Techno could have passed him in the lobby of any popular server and never thought twice about it. He smirked, and turned his head just a little to the side, but Techno could have sworn he saw a slight blush darken his freckled cheeks.

Then he was removing his green hoodie, then his undershirt, and Techno watched, interested. Dream had never undressed before. He had always simply unbuttoned his pants just enough to pull his dick out. Now, he was unbuttoning his pants, but to pull them off. His underwear followed, and he was just as nude as Techno.

His body was just as slight as Techno would have expected, but heavily muscled. The freckles continued down his body, covering his shoulders, down his abdomen, and even further to ... it was Techno’s turn to blush.

Neither man missed the way that Techno’s dick twitched in interest.

Then Dream was leaning forward, and his mouth was pressing against Techno’s, and he was _kissing_ him. A tongue flicked against his lips and he parted them obediently, and Dream’s tongue was in his mouth. The familiar flush of desire filled his belly, but this time he found that he didn’t mind. He was kissing back before he realized what he was doing.

Dream pulled away and watched him with half-lidded eyes, and the simple act of making _eye contact_ with the man was ... different. Heady. Dream’s hand came up to caress his cheek. “Such a beautiful boy,” Dream muttered.

Techno’s dick twitched again. Dream’s eyes narrowed, just a bit.

Then his mouth was kissing his jawline, then it was kissing behind his right ear. His hand roamed Techno’s chest, adding just a bit of nail. Then he _nipped,_ just a little, as he flicked Techno’s nipple.

Techno gasped. His hips bucked before he could stop them.

“So eager, baby boy,” Dream praised. Both hands went to circle his nipples.

Techno gasped. Spears of sheer pleasure shot up and down his body. He bit his lip to keep from moaning.

“None of that,” Dream chided almost teasingly. “I wanna hear those cute little sounds.” He tweaked both nipples, just on the right side of pain, and Techno couldn’t have stopped his moans of bliss if he had wanted to.

Dream’s hands travelled down his body, and for a moment Technoblade hesitated. He didn’t want this. Not really. Had fought against it for weeks and weeks and weeks.

But then Dream ran his nails over the skin right above his pubic hair, and ... it just felt so good. Not the pleasure, although he was certainly enjoying that. No, it felt so good to be relaxed, to be pain-free. It felt so good to let go of the hatred and the anxiety. To just _be._

And then Dream’s hand wrapped around his dick, and pumped, and Techno saw stars. He wasn’t sure what noise he made as he came, only that when he came back to himself Dream was talking, had been for awhile. “You did so well, so well for me, you’re so beautiful when you come baby boy, so beautiful. That’s it, just lay back now. There you go.”

Techno found himself laying back on the bench, blissed out of his mind. A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Dream hadn’t gotten off yet, that Dream would be wanting something, and he wasn’t sure-

A finger slipped into his entrance.

He wasn’t sure what surprised him the most: the presence of the finger or the way his dick immediately twitched with interest again.

The motion wasn’t lost on Dream. “You ready to go again, pretty boy?” he asked Techno, voice sweet like cotton candy. “You wanna feel good again?”

And Dream knew his body. Knew it well. Knew exactly how to curl his fingers, exactly where to hit to drive Techno insane. Techno went from sleepy and slightly overstimulated to eager in a moment.

Dream laughed at the transformation. “Such a good boy,” he cooed. “So good for me.”

The finger became two fingers, became three. Techno was panting now, impatient. “Dream,” he moaned, and was shocked at just how _wrecked_ he sounded.

“What is it, baby boy?” Dream asked. His voice was syrupy, and for a moment Techno remembered all those times he was under Dream, forced to take what he didn’t want, forced to accept the pain and humiliation of being violated in the most intimate of ways.

But then Dream’s clever fingers hit that spot, and he keened. “Need you,” Techno bit out, gasping.

“What do you need?” Was Dream mocking him? Was he making fun of him?

It didn’t matter. Techno felt like his body might fall apart if Dream didn’t fuck him right now. “Need your dick in me,” he finally managed to wheeze.

The fingers inside of him pulled out, and Techno barely had time to mourn their loss before something substantially better replaced them.

Techno moaned, loud and wanton. His legs wrapped around Dream’s waist, and Dream responded by pulling him close and kissing him passionately. Dream’s dick was in his ass, Dream’s tongue was in his mouth, Dream’s arms were around his shoulders, and he came for the second time that night. Dream finished right after, filling his body in a way that had never felt so _good_ before.

Dream pulled out of him and laid him on the bench. For a wonder, Dream then laid down beside him. Techno buried his face in his neck and fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

Dream was careful not to wake the piglin as he woke and got dressed. The dumb animal was actually snoring as he opened the cell door and left.

So. Dream would have never expected _Technoblade_ , of all people, to have a praise kink. Or to be such a cuddle bug.

Or to be so hard to break. It had taken two months of rape and torture to get to this point. _Two months._ And there were times even now that he has felt Techno resisting, pulling away. It wasn’t done yet.

Dream’s eyes, safely back behind his mask, went to the other cell door. He wondered for a moment how long it would take to break Philza. How many weeks of torture until the avian broke. More or less than the piglin? He supposed he’d find out soon enough.

He had been right about one thing, though. The avian looked good with a golden collar wrapped around his throat.

He looked at the time on his comm, realized that Phil wouldn’t wake for several hours yet, and messaged Bad to come let him back across the lava chasm. He spent the time waiting in thought.

Techno would probably regret his weakness. Dream would have to be ready for that. He’d probably be back to fighting the next time Dream visited. But now he would know what it felt like to _not_ fight, to _not_ resist. Now he would know how good Dream could be to him. The fire in his red eyes would be tempered by hesitation; just a little at first, but more and more as time passed.

Dream wasn’t finished yet; there was still work to do. But he could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Eventually, the Blade would be his.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, it’s over! And what an ending!!! This is the last fic in the series that I’ve planned. Tell me what you think, and if there’s something else you’d like to read. I can’t promise I’ll write anything, but I’ll never turn down a good idea!


End file.
